Buffy the Vampire Slayer : Chosen
by ShaelynTheSlayer
Summary: Starting with my own version of the final episode "Chosen", this is how I think the story of Buffy and Spike *should* have happened.
1. Chapter 1: The One

**_Hey! This fanfiction originally started out as just a rewriting of the series finale "Chosen." However, due to several requests, I am continuing the story! Anyway, this is how I think the story of Buffy and Spike should have continued. DO NOT READ if you're not a Spuffy fan! Also, this fanfiction contains a LOT of spoilers (particularly this first chapter), so if you haven't watched the entire show, be warned. I claim no ownership of the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Well I think that about sums it up - please comment!  
_**

"Buffy! Buffy!"

Buffy was distracted as she swung the Scythe. Spike had shouted to her from somewhere, and she could not see him. Throwing an Uber-vamp off of her, she scanned through the throng. Where was Spike?

His distinctive British accent suddenly stood out. "Oh bollux." English people. Never _Oh shit_. Oh _bollux_.

And then a spire of blue light shot upward out of nowhere, cracking a hole in the cave ceiling. Spike was standing under it, suddenly surrounded in sunlight that burned every vampire but him.

"Spike!" Buffy shouted, leaping over to him. She forgot all about the other Slayers, did not notice Faith leading the former-Potentials out. Somehow, everything else – her friends, the Uber-vampires turning to dust, the fact that the Hellmouth was caving in around her – faded into the background. Her heart was racing, not with fear for herself, but for Spike.

"Go!" he shouted.

"No," Buffy countered. "No, you've done enough, you can still-"

"No," he interrupted. "You've beat them back, it's for me to do the clean-up."

Buffy knew he was right. But she couldn't leave him. Not like this. Not when she finally realized…

. . .

_She was sixteen again. The vampire outside the Bronze was somewhat difficult to fight, without a weapon anyway. Pummeling him into the wall, she glanced back at Willow and Xander. "A stake – would be – nice!"_

_When Xander returned, tossing the requested stake, she drove the pointed wood through the vampire's heart. He crumbled into dust, like he'd never existed._

_The sound of someone clapping made her swivel around. From the shadows emerged an uncommonly-sexy-looking man. Sure, he was hot, but Buffy stared suspiciously. Vampire?_

"_Very well done," he commented._

"_Who are you?" Buffy asked._

_He answered mysteriously, "You'll find out on Saturday."_

_Buffy didn't like that answer. "What happens on Saturday?"_

_He smiled very slowly. "I kill you."_

. . .

"_Do we really need weapons for this?"_

_Spike looked at her. God, he was hot even with his game-face on. Not like Angel though, at least to Buffy's sixteen-year-old mind."I just like them. They make me feel all manly." Nevertheless, he dropped the metal pole he'd been holding. Buffy dropped her own axe, pulling her stake from the back of her shirt._

. . .

"_Stop right there!"_

_Buffy spun around, staring in fear at the cop getting out of his car. Yes, she was afraid. Not that he would hurt her – she could break every bone in his body before he could even think of some story about having kids. What she feared was what would happen to her normal life, if police charged her with murder._

_So what would she do? Beat the guy up? No, he was just human. She might accidentally kill him. Run? Sounding good right now._

_But she didn't have to run. Or maybe, to be more accurate, she really should have run. Because suddenly, Spike was punching the cop over the hood of the car, knocking him out cold._

_Buffy still hadn't reacted. Her brain was still attempting to register the fact that Spike had helped her – or, she thought, it would have been help if it had been anyone else doing it._

_As always, he chose his words to both annoy and confuse her. "Hello, cutie. I want to save the world."_

. . .

_Buffy stiffened as Spike opened the door for her, holding it open like he was some kind of gentlemen. What the _hell_ was going on? "What is this?"_

"_Oh, don't get your knickers twisted-" he started to say._

"_What IS this?" Buffy demanded. "The flask, the late night stake-out, the bogus suspects. Is this a date?"_

. . .

Buffy's thoughts flash-forwarded to what had happened two nights before.

"_Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it's not because I want you, or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love who you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you, and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."_

"_I don't want to be the one," she had said. She wanted him, she wanted to be with him and for that to be okay, but she didn't want to be the one. She'd been the "one" since she was fifteen – the one destined to slay, to die, to come back to life, to die again, to live again, to both slay and love vampires, to have loving friends and a Watcher and family – but in the end, the one to kill._

. . .

That was different now. _I don't want to be the one…_ but she did. She didn't have to be the "one" to kill anymore – not with thirty-odd new Slayers at her side. But she could be the one for Spike. She knew that now. She knew that she loved him. Not the way she loved Angel… but perhaps much, much more, in an older, darker way.

Barely a second had passed. Buffy's hand shook as she lifted it to one of Spike's own, stretched out as if his last wish was to hold her hand. And then, the two joined hands burst into flame. Buffy felt the fire burning her skin, but it didn't matter. This was not the wrong fire that she had sung about during Sunnydale's musical. She didn't love that fire the way she used to. This wasn't that hard, desperate flame – this was spark and racing hearts and the willingness to be hurt to show someone you love them. And Buffy knew… yes, she knew now, how much she loved Spike.

Time was running out, as everything continued crashing down. Buffy could feel Spike unwillingly trying to pull his hand away, to get her out of there before she went down with him. But Buffy clung to his fingers, gripping them and the flames.

No time left. It had to come out now.

"I love you," she said.

As soon as she said it, she absolutely hated herself. Why, why now? Why not the other night, in that stranger's house, when Spike had given her everything she needed, when he had spoken that true, honest-to-hell speech about how much he loved her. And she couldn't return the words, until now, when he was about to die.

She stared at the beautiful face she loved, the face that had changed so much since she'd first met him. Not physically different – he was ageless, being a vampire – but the way his eyes watched her, like he was her boyfriend, not her predator; the way his lips inadvertently curved into a smile because she was there. She loved him.

"No, you don't," he finally said, his voice shaking. "But thanks for saying it."

Of course he didn't believe. If she'd loved him, she would have said so that night, when he'd called her the one. Only _she_, Buffy Summers, would have held back the way she did, after everything he had done and gone through trying to earn her love.

There was nothing she could do to prove her love for him, no time. The school was collapsing. They would both die in a minute. The only thing she could do was stay and die with him.

"Now, go!" he shouted.

Everything in Buffy's Slayer instincts was screaming at Buffy to follow his command. _Run, run, run! You can't fight this! Get out of here!_ But she wasn't listening to her instincts anymore. The only impulse she followed was the one that told her to stay with the man – yes, the _man_, not the thing, the vampire, the crazy-creepy-disgusting-dude-who's-freakishly-obsessed-about-me – she loved.

"I'm not going," she said.

He was confused. Very, very confused. She could read it on his face for several seconds. "They need you. You have to go."

Buffy shook her head, her confidence growing now that her decision was made. "No, they don't. All the Potentials are Slayers now. Everyone who lived would have gotten out. They'll make it out of Sunnydale and be safe. You're the only one who needs me." On a sudden urge, she added, "You're the one, Spike."

And she could tell that was when really started to believe that she loved him. Again, he tried to pull his hand from hers, his mouth open to order her to get to safety. But the fire was still burning, and Buffy held onto.

Recalling her singing voice, she changed the lyrics to the music that had come so easily before, and sang,

"_I touched the fire, and it froze me._

_I looked into and it was black._

_This different fire is real,_

_Can't you feel?_

_I want our love back._"

His deeper voice continued.

"_I died so many years ago,_

_But because of you, I have my soul._

_And why you come to be with me,_

_I think we finally know…_"

Yes, they knew now. She always came back to him, always wanted to be with him. Once, it had been for the sex, for the way he'd made her feel alive again. Now, the fire was real. Now, she was in love with him.

Debris plummeted from above, raining down all around them. It was only seconds later that Spike was dusted in the sunlight, and Buffy – still holding the ashes that had been his hands – was killed by the burning wreckage crashing on top of her.

Her last thoughts were entirely centered around Spike. He was the one. She'd chosen him – over Angel. That night that she'd killed Caleb and talked to Angel, she'd said she didn't know who she'd end up with, but she sometimes dreamed it would be Angel. That part had been true. And still, she would never stop loving Angel. But there was no sadness, absolutely no regret, in her heart that she had chosen Spike.

**(C) ShaelynTheSlayer, 2011 - do not steal this at all! Don't forget that I _love_ reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2: Haunted

**_Well, here's Chapter 2! Yeah it's kinda depressing. By the way, the whole dream thing at the end was my twist of the dream Buffy had in Season 2: Surprise. Again, depressing chapter. It'll get lighter soon, don't worry. By the way, if you're looking for Spuffy porn - you're not gonna get it. This is a clean fanfiction, okay? Yeah yeah, cussing and stuff, that's it. Anyway, please comment/rate/review/subscribe/whatever! I'd really love it if you did. And thank you so much to the fans who suggested that I continue this story. I was stumped for a while HOW to continue it, since they both died, but I'm glad I did. Thank you!_**

And here she was again. In California. God, was she destined to _never_ stay dead? Wasn't twice enough? Apparently not. Buffy was back, alive and kicking, after finally closing the Hellmouth.

She stared blankly in front of her, staring at but not really seeing the crater that had once been Sunnydale. Like every other day, she just sat there, on the very edge of the precipice, lost in the past.

Sometimes, she imagined that Spike was still alive. If she closed her eyes, she could feel his arms around her, that night in the stranger's house before the final fight. God, she hadn't even _kissed_ him since before he got his soul. Sad way of showing him she loved him, while she'd had the chance.

It was almost nighttime. The sky was darkening with the greyness of twilight. Buffy fiddled with her stake in her hand. She hadn't used it in so long. There had been no need, between the Hellmouth being shut down and all the former-Potentials eager to take Buffy's place. Buffy knew that with all of them being real Slayers, she was free to live a normal life. She could go to Disneyland, or tour France, or… whatever.

If only she could stop coming back to the crater. If only she could let Spike go.

She was clueless as to how she'd come back to life again. Her friends insisted they'd have let her stay in heaven… Yes, she had once more gone to heaven, and had once more been forced to leave. Once more, with feeling. Story of her life.

Even heaven had been wrong though. Empty, lonely. She hated to be this dependent on someone else, but, if she was being honest with herself, she could no longer find happiness without Spike. Without his sweet smile. Without the strange warmth of his body, somehow existing regardless of his lacking heart. Without the deep, honest love in him that he had accepted would never be returned… even though she really did love him.

She flashed back to her talk with Angel. She loved him too, so much. It was still part of her schoolgirl dream to have a happy ending with Angel. And, oh God, that retarded cookiedough analogy – well, she was cookies, but the right one wasn't there to "enjoy warm, delicious, cookie-me." It wasn't Angel. Even if she knew how to be his girl again, Cordelia had taken her place, and from what Buffy heard, it was better that way.

"I love you," Buffy whispered to the crater, to the pile of ashes somewhere deep under the rubble. To Spike.

The sound of a driving care barely distracted her, until she heard it pull up behind her.

"Buffy," the deep voice, still somewhat retaining an old Irish accent, called to her.

Buffy really did _not_ want Angel there. His presence only aroused guilt, guilt that she so completely loved someone else. "Hey," she reluctantly replied.

"How are you?"

"Spectacular," she answered sarcastically. "You?"

"A little off my game," he admitted. "Willow said you keep coming here, every day. What are you doing?"

Buffy shrugged. "What can I say? I don't handle dead exes well. You should have seen how I was when you were in Hell."

He smiled grimly, sitting beside her. "You ran away and worked as a waitress. When you came back, you made several failed attempts at dating normal guys.

"Yeah, doesn't look like I'll ever love a normal guy, huh? Vampire, military-soldier-who-knows-about-and-fights-demons, vampire."

"So you really loved him?" Angel's eyes were cautious, but openly needing an answer.

Buffy, despite her depression, rolled her eyes. "No, I just enjoy sitting here every day by myself when I could be watching TV with the Scoobies." In a softer tone, she added, "Yes. I did."

"But he's Spike," Angel protested, still not understanding.

"He's not the Spike you knew." It didn't get truer than that, Buffy thought. Angel may have known Spike for over a hundred years, but Buffy knew him better. _I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. _Spike had said it to her, but she could have said the same to him. The worst of him? The attempted rape. The best of him – getting his soul back. _You faced the monster inside of you and you fought back!_

_I believe in you, Spike…._

"Buffy? _Buffy?_"

Buffy blinked at Angel. He looked annoyed, like he'd been saying something for the past two minutes and knew she hadn't heard a word of it.

"Sorry?"

He sighed and was silent for a long time. Just when Buffy thought he wasn't going to repeat himself, he said quietly, "Are you… done baking? For Spike?"

_Oh, for the love of God, why the hell did I make up that bloody cookie comparison?_

"Yeah, for Spike. Cookie's getting stale now," she muttered.

Angel stood up suddenly. Buffy cringed. She knew better than anyone when he was angry.

"Fine then. Keep pining over a dead man. I'll leave you to your brooding."

Buffy stood up, incensed by his antagonism. "Angel, what the _fuck?_ I thought you're dating Cordelia? Why the hell are you trying to get back with me? I figured out who I'm supposed to be with, okay! You lost me when you dumped me back when the Mayor was still around! So, I never stopped loving you – but I am _not_ taking you back."

His voice was quiet, but seething with fury. "I love Cordelia. But Buffy, you were always the one. And I knew it before Spike did." He spun around and stalked back to his car, popping a U-turn and slamming the throttle away.

. . .

Dawn was reading in the apartment when Buffy got back. "Hey," Buffy said in a monotonous tone, tired. The Hellmouth was closed for business, but there were still baddies out. She'd run into a few anonymous demons on the way back, and a shallow cut on her forearm was stinging.

"Hey," Dawn greeted back, looking up from her book. Shakespeare, Buffy noticed. Good to see Dawn reading something that wasn't in Sumerian or had graphic illustrations of naked demons.

"Dinner?" Buffy asked, opening the fridge and inspecting the unappetizing contents.

"Sorry, I already ate," Dawn said. "There's a couple eggs left on the bottom rack."

Buffy was not in the mood for cooking. "Nah, I'll just have one of these sandwiches."

"Those are for tomorrow when the gang comes here!" her sister protested.

Buffy shrugged. "Whatever." She bit into one. "Blech!" Peanut butter, mayonnaise, grape jelly, and iceberg lettuce? That was for Xander. She put it back, and checked the next sandwich. Nice, safe peanut butter and jelly.

Being around Dawn was kind of nice. She was 16 now, and a lot less annoying than she used to be. Buffy guessed that she partly liked hanging with sis now because for the longest time, Dawn had actually liked Spike. Sure, it had been a teenage fangirl sort of thing, but it was still more than any of the other Scoobies. Not that Buffy ever talked to Dawn about Spike. But it was sort of understood. They both missed him.

Yet another thing she loved about Spike. The way he was with Dawn. How he called her "little bit" in such a loving voice. Picturing Spike as a father wasn't an easy thing, especially since it was impossible for him to get a woman pregnant, but the way he protected Dawn made it seem like he might have been good at it. Buffy pushed away these thoughts. She'd been brooding about Spike all day long, and it exhausted her. She finished her sandwich and hopped in the shower.

For the entire period of her shower, she let all thoughts escape her mind. This was the one part of her day when she was really free. Only the simple, steady drumming of the hot water could make all the pain and memory melt away.

…

Buffy wandered aimlessly through the Bronze. Willow was on her date with the French monkey. The band was good, playing dark, slow music at the moment.

"Buffy! Buffy!" Giles was shouting. "Buffy," he added breathlessly, suddenly at her side. "We have business plans to discuss – that warehouse in LA we're going to open –"

"Get Anya to do it with you," Buffy said absentmindedly, dismissing him without a second thought. There was definitely something strange about to happen… something she wouldn't like…

"Do you really think you're ready, Buffy?"

_Mom!_

Dawn dropped her plate. It crashed to the dance floor and shattered into tiny pieces. "Oops!" Dawn exclaimed, bending over to clean it up.

_Déjà vu. _This dream… Buffy had had it before… well, no, it was different. She knew it was different. But so much was the same – Angel?

She turned to see him, but instead of Drusilla dusting him before her eyes, he was perfectly safe. And holding a tray of cookies. "Would you like a cookie?" Angel asked, in a grandmother sort of voice. Buffy cautiously took one, but stared at it in her hand. Every single sugar cookie had her face painted on them. Little Buffy-cookies. _I'm cookies,_ Buffy thought confusedly.

"Ah-ah, cookies aren't good for puppies," Spike drawled, taking the tray away from Angel. "You might get sick," he added. Angel glowered and stalked away to brood in a corner.

"Cookie?" Spike offered.

"No, thanks," Buffy muttered. Something about eating her own sugar-frosted face creeped her out more than any dancing puppet-men.

"Don't blame you," Spike laughed, tossing them in the direction Angel had walked away. "So, love, how's it going? You still up and slaying every night, or have you let the other Slayers take over for you?"

"Spike," was all Buffy could say.

He pulled her close to him, holding her hands beneath his chin. She stared into his blue eyes, feeling breathless.

"I'm not dead," he murmured.

"Yes, you are," Buffy whispered, choking tears back.

"You don't know that, pet," he replied, a grin tugging at his mouth. He touched her hair with his hand, holding her forehead against his.

"Goldilocks," he continued. "Ask Red. She'll know how to find me."

_How would Willow know? And if she does, why hasn't she told me?_ Buffy couldn't find the voice to say her thoughts aloud. All she knew was that she never wanted this dream to end – she wanted to hold onto Spike forever….

And they stood there, surrounded by people at the Bronze and yet alone, swaying together to the soft music.

_**© ShaelynTheSlayer 2011**_


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